It's one of my favourite parts of pregnancy - getting to see the little monster moving around in there, watching them stretch and curl up. Seeing their cute little profile.

First of all, let me say, I had a wonderful experience at MedRay in Coquitlam. They are a private clinic but covered with medical at no extra cost. The clinic has a great "welcoming" feel to it. And the two receptionists I spoke with were very helpful and patient. And because we were 20w3d, we were able to find out the gender at the exam!

The technician I had was terrific. The past five ultrasound tech's I've had (this pregnancy and last) have been very serious and only interested in doing their job and not making small talk while you lay on the bed, waiting for them to check your baby and make sure they are healthy while not telling you if anything is wrong, even after the scan. This technician was very friendly and asked lots of questions about my 21 month old.

She also made lots of jokes about how I was going to have my hands full with this one because they wouldn't stop moving. Baby was even trying to shove the ultrasound wand away when the lady was poking them to try and have them shift for a better view.

It was the typical ultrasound where my husband had to wait in the waiting room. I spent about 40 minutes laying on the exam table while the technician tried to coax baby out out of hiding so that she could get the measurements done. Baby kept hiding behind my belly button or turning away. They also kept kicking and pushing at the wand to try and gain some of their personal space back. Baby was constantly on the move.

After all the measurements (minus the spine because baby was being stubborn and wouldn't give a clear view of it so now I have to go back and get it redone in the next 12 days), she called in my husband. Jason and I got to watch the monitor as she started from the top - showing us the profile view, the heart, the arms and fingers, legs kicking and then finally, the moment we were looking forward to - finding out the gender!

It's a BOY!

I was very sure that baby was a girl. Jason was sure baby was a boy...Well, there were testicles. And a penis. Jason shot me a look that said "HAHAH! SUCKA!" and I was forced to admit I was wrong. (Seriously people, this doesn't happen often!)

Turns out Baby 2.0 is a boy! There's always a little room for error with ultrasounds, but there's no denying this one!

Am I disappointed that baby is a boy? Nope! I don't feel cheated or sad that Baby 2.0 isn't the girl we were hoping for. If anything, two boys makes life easier! We have everything we will need, clothing and gear wise, for another boy. Activities when they are older will be easier to coordinate. Family outings will be a bit smoother. And I won't have to deal with tea parties and dolls, hair and make-up, and teenage girl drama. Though, I will be scheduling showers on a bi-daily basis and requiring hourly deodorant applications throughout the teenaged years. And hey! We don't have to repaint Dean's rooms when we are preparing for Baby 2.0 after we move Dean into our room (and our room into the spare room!) Plus, as Jason so joyously pointed out - we don't have to move Dean's dresser that has blue doors. We can just build the new one into Dean's new room!

I'm slightly terrified for being a SAHM with two boys, barely two years apart, but one day at a time.But bring on the fart jokes and burping contests!

Remember when we tried to switch Dean into his big bed, back in February? Remember when it was a complete flop?

I decided I wasn't going to push it until he was ready. We would buy a second crib for baby if needed, I wasn't going to go through another weekend of not sleeping...

Well, fast forward three months later, he'd spent a few nights in his big bed here and there. But he was definitely not ready for the transition.

Then one week ago, at nap, he pointed to his big bed that had been newly raised onto the box spring (but no frame) and said "nigh-night big bed!" as we told him goodnight... Jason and I swapped looks (you know, the "are you going to deal with this?" look) and shrugged. Why not, right?

Since then, every single bedtime and nap have at least started in his big bed. We've been toying with his bedtime lately, as he's not as tired at 6:45pm anymore and is sometimes playing until 8pm. And having the freedom to be able to get out of bed... Well, that doesn't go well when he gets bored trying to fall asleep. With this new change, he's had a few nights where two warnings have resulted in being stuffed, er, placed, into his crib when he can't seem to stay in his big bed.

Yup... My son is transitioning himself from his crib... Without any real help from mom and dad.

Then today, after dinner, he points at his diaper after I strip the dinner-coated clothes off, and tells me "pee-pee". I have tried a few times to get him to try to sit on the potty without a diaper but he's never really liked it and only lasts until his naked bum hits the seat and then he's stuffing his potty back beside the toilet. I figured this was going to be the case so we ran to the bathroom, took off his diaper and he actually sat on the potty, fully, for more than a split second. In fact, he sat on it for about five minutes. He kept telling me that he had to pee so we waited it out. Nothing. He lost some interest in it so he went into the bath for a little bit and then I got him out, stuck his bedtime diaper on and we ran to his big bed for PJ's. He decided he wanted to go pee again, so we trekked off to the bathroom, stripped down again and he sat - AND PEE'D!

Part of me is so over the moon that he's growing up, The other part of me is devastated that my little guy isn't so little anymore.

And deep down, there's a tiny part of me that is terrified of the enormous amounts of laundry that happen with potty training.

Now, can someone please tell my 21 month old that growing up includes getting a job and paying his way...

Some toddlers scream and collapse to the ground in a fit of rage when you ask them to help you clean up.

Mine? He demands tasks. He will ask "more? more?" until you're so desperate for a task for him to do that you start "dropping" carrot peels so he can pick them up and throw them out while you are peeling carrots for dinner.

He does his own laundry. No joke. He will pull his basket of dirty clothes to the washer, climb onto a chair and put every item into the washer. Then, if I'm not fast enough to stop him, he will try to add soap and turn the dials to get it running on his own. (If only I could teach my husband to do the same!)

Sweeping up a storm, in Mommy's heels

Dean likes to sweep, as most kids do. Since he was 14 or 15 months, he would play with the little broom and dustpan, sweeping into it and then dumping it into the garbage. Give him the broom outside? He will start putting dirt from the garden onto the walkway and cleaning it up.

He likes to push the shopping cart now. At 20 months old, he has decided he is too big to sit in it (unless it's a cool car shopping cart then suddenly both his legs are broken and he has to sit down) He has a blast cruising down the aisles of the grocery store, playing "I Spy" until we find the item needed, and then putting it in the cart. He also likes to try to sneak a few extra items in there... You know, in case we wanted a jar of sauerkraut.

Dean has been helping me in the garden this past week or two. He had a blast yesterday, when we planted onion bulbs. Unfortunately, he also had fun digging them all up and putting them back in the bag as well....

Baking Uncle Cam a cake for his birthday

Today he learned how to work the hose. And the realization that I am never going to get to use the hose with him around without having to fight over it is sinking in. He had so much fun just spraying a fine mist in the garden. He then decided he was thirsty so he kept trying to drink it while spraying it away from him. And then there were a few times that he pointed it at himself and pulled the trigger... Getting a face full of water! He was pretty quick to toss the hose down and come running over to me with this look of half-enjoyment, half-WTF-just-happened. Every time, he would tell me "water!" and then go running back to water the garden again.

And he actually did really good with watering the garden! I think I will have to enslave, I mean... enlist, him to help me water everyday!

Does your little one like to help out around the house? Do you add extra work into a task just so your child can help out and feel included?

Yup, two and a half months later, we have finally gotten Dean his shots.

He was scheduled for his appointment on time, but then we had that nasty flu and bad fever that wouldn't break.As so I rescheduled it for a few weeks later. And then he had a cold and we had to cancel it again.So finally last week, I rescheduled it again since Jason is home from work this week and can come with us (I'm a total sissy - I admit it. It's hard for me to get his shots and not cry right along side with him...)

His shots were scheduled for today. And yesterday morning, he woke up with a case of Pink Eye.

I swear, he is doing this on purpose in an attempt to avoid getting his shots...

He stayed home with us and came to the midwife appointment in the morning and was very excited to go see the "baby doctor" and listen to the heart. Dean went on about the baby all morning after our appointment. Everything is going well with baby - I've maintained my weight, even though I figured I would have gained 10lbs from the junky foods and the amount we've been eating out lately. Baby's heart rate is good and everything is where it should be. The results from the second part of the SIPS wasn't in just yet but unless they call us in, we don't need to worry about that. Our ultrasound is in two weeks and we will find out what we are having at the appointment! I go back to my midwife in a month. And I likely won't have to see the dietitian unless there's a change in weight. Yay!

Jason and I had appointments at the family doctor in the afternoon and they were able to squeeze Dean in with us. Our family doctor confirmed Pink Eye and prescribed some drops. She also gave us the go-ahead to send him back to daycare and to get his shots today.

Dean has been a champion about getting drops in his eye. He doesn't fight or even wiggle around when we lay him down and he knows it's coming. The doctor warned us it might sting a little bit, but Dean hasn't seemed to notice or care.

This morning we loaded him into the car again and he rode the whole way to the Public Health Nurse saying "more doctor" (Poor kid has only been to the doctors aside from outside at home and inside playing with trains in the past two days due to his contagious eye) He wasn't very happy about getting his height and weight measured and there were some tears. But he was a tough cookie when we got his shot. It was just one needle this time, thank goodness! Jason held him on his lap with his arms snuggled tight and the nurse was very fast to poke him and be done. Dean cried for a few moments but cheered up when the bubbles came out.

We played in the waiting room for the required 15 minute wait time and he didn't seem to care about the shot anymore... Until the nurse came out to give me a pamphlet and then Dean ran over and asked to hold my hand (Translation : NOOO! Don't let her jab me again!) We came home and played in the backyard and all was well in the world.

I was relieved to hear that these are the last shots until around 4-6 years old - until I realized that in about 6 months, I will be back there with baby to start their rounds of shots. Then when they are Dean's current age and done shots, I will have to bring Dean in for his. It's never ending! Ugh!

I cried more than Dean did for most of his shots - like I said, I am a total sissy. I'm getting better though. I know it's needed and I know it only hurts for a second and then it's over but it's still so heartbreaking knowing that you have to hold them still so that they can go through that little bit of pain.

I know I will definitely be booking shots for the baby when Jason is off work or after working hours so he can be the meanie!!

So, we're going to have two kids. (No, I don't mean that I'm carrying twins - there's still only one in there, as far as we know anyway!)

But two kids. As in, a newborn and a two year old. A three and five year old. Twelve and fourteen year old. Nineteen and twenty-one...

Two of them.

48 hours old

Yes, I kind of knew that this was what I was getting myself into when we started trying for baby number two...

But this morning I was suddenly jolted awake to the thought of "SHITE! I'm never going to sleep again. I'm going to be knee deep in diapers for another few years. I'm going to have to balance nursing with entertaining a toddler. Going anywhere is going to take some planning. Going anywhere solo is going to take a lot of caffeine and some (read : a lot of) Valium.

Two weeks old and already making friends!

Am I nervous? Yes. Just ever so slightly. Like, as slight as the Sun in relation to Mercury.

I know that this isn't going to be the end of the world, but I also know that this is going to be a big change for our family.

I started talking about how I still want to go to the Pumpkin Patch on Thanksgiving weekend, our family tradition that we've been doing for the past two years, with my husband today. That's nine days after my due date, for anyone keeping track. He looked at me like I was crazy. And I think he's plotting house arrest.

I don't know how to slow down. The day after Dean was home (two days after he was born), we were going on walks. Within twelve hours of being home, I had loaded him up in the carrier and went for a walk with my mom. When my husband returned to work, two weeks after he was born, we went to our first playdate. And when he was a month old, we were going along the Seawall, walking 6-10km (on top of a 30m commute there on transit) every week for a couple of months. We would leave the house by 9am some mornings, and be gone all day until my husband got home at 6p.

Having a newborn and having a toddler are fine - but having them together will be different. We'll have to make sure we are somewhere convenient to nurse - I can't just stop at any bench at the mall. I'll need one that is toddler-friendly. I can't just stop and enjoy a coffee while on a walk because the baby is sleeping (unless I really luck out and can time it so they both sleep!)

It will definitely be an adjustment period, trying to get used to the newborn phase again, while still creating an active and learning environment for our toddler, who will usually be shoving his shoes in my face within an hour of waking up because he's ready for an adventure.

I've very excited too, don't get me wrong! I can't wait for our family to be complete (because no, we will not be having any more kids... unless we win the lottery and I can afford my own personal Starbucks in a seven bedroom house that includes a barista and soundproof walls surrounding my time-out room..)

We are very excited to welcome our second child into the family. And to continue to watch Dean grow and become close friends with them.

I'm excited for the firsts, for the second time. To see the first smile, the first step and to hear the first laughs and first word.

But I'm also feeling a bit of "first time mom" worry creeping in too...

Kate is a fellow mommy blogger. But more importantly, she is mother. Her son, Mylo, is three and a half years old and has been diagnosed with autism. Her and her husband are looking for alternative treatment for him, but need assistance.

I came across her story on a Facebook group that we both are a part of. Some very wicked moms on there are helping her to raise money for a new form of therapy that is very expensive and not covered by medical. As someone who has nannied children with autism in the past, I felt a connection to what this mom is fighting for. I have worked hand in hand with therapists, trying to help children to become more communicative and more engaged. I have seen how hard it can be for a parent and a child during a good day. And how hard it can be during a bad day. But don't get me wrong, there are many moments of joy and laughter.

The Facebook group, for Mom's living in or near New Westminster, is stepping up and helping Kate with financial and emotional support. There will be a Swap Meet held at River Market (New Westminster Quay) on Sunday, April 27th at 3:00pm. Mom's have graciously donated things for a table that will have 100% of sales go towards Mylo's new therapy (Son-Rise, read more about it from Kate, below) and other ladies have bought tables to sell their items, donating a portion to the cause.There are tables still available, if you have some baby items you are looking to sell. And they are still collection donated items for the group table. Please contact the organizers for more information or to book tables or arrange donations drop off.Also, check them out on Twitter for upcoming sneak peeks of items you can find at the Swap Meet.

It may be a couple days past World Autism Awareness Day, but hey, when you get two mom's together to work on something, it can never happen on a fixed time constraint!

My name is Kate. I am a local New West mom. I’m happily married to perhaps the best man around. Together we raise a very special little person. This is our very condensed story.

What did we imagine in those hazy years before parenting, before autism, before this new life was thrust upon us? Probably the same as all of you imagined. Giving birth to a chubby little person, nurturing them, loving them, watching them grow, being excited for every new (and expected) thing they learned or did. In my mind it was all mapped out, it would unfold just as it should. And, it has.

Let me tell you a little about our son Mylo. He is the most tenacious spirit you’ll ever hope to meet. He is bright and full of energy, light and love. He is painfully handsome, incredibly creative and all around brilliant. He is also mostly misunderstood, even by us, his parents.

Mylo is 3.5 years old and was diagnosed at 18 months with autism. From birth, his dad and I realized we had a child whose needs were both more complex and greater than we were fully prepared for. He was not a happy baby and we now understand that even then, his world was one of massive sensory overload, discomfort and frustration.

This life is not one we would have chosen, if someone had given us the choice. But there it is, we weren't given a choice. What we were given, was a little boy whose whole world is unique, from the way he perceives light and sound and touch, to the way he interacts with his environment and those in it. What we were given was our son, we were handed our hearts.

What we WEREN'T handed was a guide book, a rule book, a stick by which to measure progress, regression, sadness, heartache and break, anger, or uncertainty. What we weren’t given were the answers on what the best form of therapy was for OUR son and OUR family. We did our research and found that the most widely used and accepted therapy in B.C is Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA). This is the therapy that the Government funds because there is science-based evidence to support its efficacy. And so, new to this world, overwhelmed and hopeful we jumped in head-first to ABA.

Fast forward 2 years and we are standing at the precipice of new and uncharted territory. We have given ABA a fair shake, 2 years time and all our energy. Mylo has made some wonderful progress, although he still remains entirely non-verbal and most often locked in his own private world. My husband and I have been exploring a different style of therapy, one which emphasizes relationship development over behavior modification. Son-Rise is a parent and child driven model whose core idea is one of ‘joining’ your child in their world. This ‘joining’ facilitates the building of trust and through that trust, a bridge for them to WANT to come and join us in our world. How wonderful does that sound?

This is where you come in. Son-Rise is not a recognized therapy in BC and therefore our provincial autism funding does not cover the cost of training. The workshop is extensive and expensive and is only offered in the United States, all at our cost. We are asking for your help to take this leap of faith and provide our son with the opportunity to break free from his solitary world and find his voice. Every little bit helps.

Our life is hard, but it's also so incredibly full of wonder and joy at the smallest detail, the smallest achievement. I'm not sure that is something that every parent can truthfully say, that they live in the micro. We live and love there every day.

Our son is the single most important aspect of our lives, and we would go to the ends of the earth and back if it would mean vanquishing his symptoms. We will fight for him, we will learn for him, we will sacrifice for him and not be too proud to ask for help for him. So thank you, one and all for supporting us, for listening to us and for loving us.

When I found out I was pregnant the first time, I knew I would breastfeed. I had dreams of breastfeeding until 18 months and pumping for another 6 months after that. I worried that I would have troubles with it, that I wouldn't make enough milk or that he would have a tongue tie that caused issues. Or that he simply wouldn't want to nurse. I was excited for the bond that nursing can create. To have that feeling that I am providing what my son needs. You know, all that it's hyped up to be during all your extensive reading and research pre-baby.

Labour? Pfft. Didn't care what happened (so long as, you know, he ended up vacating the premises) I wanted a vaginal birth with no medication. But if the doctor suggested a C-Section, sure, why not? It's all good.

Formula feeding? No way. No thanks.

My son was born four days past his due date and was latched on a short few seconds after coming out. The nurses were still wiping him down as he started inching his way up to the boob.... It was pretty creepy the way he squirmed right for the boob, to be honest! He nursed a handful of times in the hospital during the 24 hours we were there. All the nurses said he was a great little eater and he knew how to latch.

I was elated to know I could nurse and that this would work out for us. But I hadn't realized that I was getting my hopes up for what would be a struggle in the future.

Around 8 weeks, I ended up with terrible pain while nursing. It ended up being thrush. The good side? Dean didn't get it in his mouth, like many children do. I was given an ointment to use and sent on my way.

At 4 months my doctor noticed that Dean wasn't gaining as much weight as he should have been. Jason was a scrawny kid so we just figured Dean was following in his footsteps. She suggested starting him on solids that day, when he was 3 months and 3 weeks old. Thinking back, I wish I was more stubborn with my "no solids until 6 months" idea. But I went on my way, assuming doctor knows best.

At 4.5 months, I went back in. How much am I supposed to feed my child? He wasn't nursing as much since we introduced solids. I was told to feed him solids three times a day, until he didn't want anymore. "Babies won't eat more than they need. He will tell you when he's done," said my doctor. I beg to differ. He would eat 16oz of food... each meal. He was barely nursing anymore as the food was filling him up and keeping him full, so my milk started slowing down. He still wasn't gaining. And that claim of babies not overeating? Total lie. He would eat until he threw up, and then want to eat more sometimes.

My little scrawny man around the time we stopped nursing

I started thinking the doctor, who was my OB but does after care for the first year, was maybe not the best doctor for us. We went to our family doctor, who is quite the commute for us which is mainly why we stuck with the OB. My family doctor suggested formula to plump him up and to cut back on his solids.

Sure enough, within a month, Dean had his first little roll (it didn't last long because he was far too active!) and he went from >10 percentile to the 15th. And he was happier. It was life changing. And I had a small feeling in the pit of my chest... I couldn't provide for him the way a mother was supposed to. I couldn't meet his needs of breast milk.

It was hard to cope with. It sounds so silly now... But at the time, it was heartbreaking. Pre-formula, I would openly nurse him (with a cover and double layered shirts so no skin showed, because I'm a bit overly modest) on a busy mall bench or heck, even a skytrain once when we were stuck for twenty minutes and it was that or have him scream. But when I started with formula, I would time our trips to the parents room so that I could prepare his bottle out of sight. Or I would block the views of onlookers with the stroller while I prepared his powdered formula on the same mall benches. I was ashamed at times. I felt that I was being judged for not being able to provide what my son needed.

And then, close to two months after starting formula, I got over it. A light switch was flipped and I realized that I *WAS* provided what he needed. I *WAS* doing what was best for my child. I was putting his needs for formula far above my own of fulfilling my desire to breast feed. I was still struggling to get my supply back with the assistance of a pump, domperidone and trying to nurse a few times a day. I was fighting tooth and nail to get my supply back and to be Super-Mom, the mother who does everything possible to give their child the best start they can. But until I stopped supplementing, I came to accept that formula is what was best for my child. Not filling him up on food to cover my lack of milk. But instead, using formula.

At 8 months, Dean was back on the boob. I was still unable to pump (it just never really worked for me) but I could hand express 16oz in no time, if I tried - which considering how painful hand expressing can be on the tissues, I didn't aside from twice to see how my supply was doing.

We didn't make it to 18 months of nursing... But we made it to 14.5 months. And after overcoming the issues we had, I don't care for a second that we didn't make it to a magic number that I pulled out of the air one day when I was nine months pregnant and thinking to the future.

Dean is still on the lighter side - 46th percentile, which isn't too bad - but eats like a linebacker. He will eat two big bowls of pasta salad, two pickles, a banana and five strawberries for lunch. And then ask for a snack an hour later. I don't know where he puts it. It turns out that he does have the same body type as his dad, as Dean is still scrawny. He's getting a little bit of the "toddler gut" but the rest doesn't have too much meat on him.

Somedays there's still the wonder if nursing him exclusively to 6 months would have helped with his weight gain or if he was just destined to be skinny.

With our second child on the way, I am hoping to have more success with breastfeeding. I know more about prevention of supply dropping and about intervention if it does happen. I know about what options are out there for me. And about lactation consultants and natural boosters for milk supply... All things I wish I had known before, or even during, nursing Dean.

This time, things will be different. If I need to formula feed, I won't do it hiding in a parents room. I will proudly do it on that bench in the mall - because I am feeding my child. I am providing them what they need. And I am doing it without putting my desires of only breastfeeding first. Because that is what a Super-Mom does.

I had two people I have never met message me saying they follow my page and wanting to see if everything was going okay since I have disappeared for a while. That made my day - thanks ladies!

It's been crazy over here for the past little while. I've had quite a lot on my plate lately (proverbial plate that is, since morning sickness has been pretty full swing until recently)

The pregnancy is going well. I am one day into the second trimester. It's been a totally different pregnancy this time around. With Dean, I had maybe 5 times of nausea that was quickly subsided with a few crackers and better timed prenatal pills. This time, I had about 8 weeks of nausea that wouldn't go away with anything. For a few weeks, I was only able to eat between 2-5pm each day, and that was it. No breakfast, no dinner. And I couldn't even drink water on it's own. It had to be 3 parts water to 1 part juice at room temperature. Like with Dean, I never threw up and only had to deal with nausea, so for that I am thankful beyond belief. The past couple weeks, I have been able to eat throughout the day but I just don't want to. I don't have any cravings. Everything is an aversion. I really wanted pasta one night and cooked it... Then didn't want it when I finally sat down to eat it. This past week, all I have wanted has been Tim Horton's Cream of Potato Leek Soup. I've had it a couple times, even walking for 45 minutes to the nearest Tim Horton's at work (that's each way... Not including the stops at the parks we made!) last week because I just. had. to. have. it.

I am currently searching for work. The boy I was nannying was offered a full time daycare position that his parents had been hoping he would get (he was part time in a location that wasn't that great for them but is now full time in a location more convenient) so my hours dropped at work. I am still caring for the little girl, but I am hoping to find something to fill the other days and give me equal to full time hours between the two jobs (or something full time, but I would ideally like to stay on with the family!) The search has gone slowly. I'm hoping to find something soon as I need to start paying into EI for my hours so that I can qualify for maternity leave.

Dean has been very, as daycare put it, assertive in his choices. He's becoming independent at an early age where he isn't quite physically and mentally capable just yet. He doesn't want to hold hands to walk anymore, which is fine on quiet roads and when there's a sidewalk, but on our road there isn't sidewalks and it's just not acceptable that he has to be carried or forced to hold hands while cars come barreling down the road next to us. This morning we had a twenty minute battle over pants. He wanted to put them on by himself. But he was getting frustrated. And we wanted to get going to the park. We finally took over as he kept asking for help but then getting mad when we'd go to help him and it was getting to the boiling point. The little rage-monster cried about his pants being on for a while after but finally got over it. Then it was a fight because he wanted to push his bike down a hill (that's just asking for an accident to happen! He can barely control it on a flat surface, never mind a hill!) So needless to say, it was a loooong morning. But this has been happening often lately. He wants to do things that he's just not quite capable of yet. Most times I let him try or I'll help him to do something, but there are times it's just not possible (like the bike on a hill) so we've been having a bit of acting out. And yesterday, one of us ended up walking away with teeth marks - I'll let you guess who that one was.

It's a fun age. But it's also a very trying age. And being pregnant is not making it any easier as I am tired and quicker to start losing patience. I am looking to get past the terrible two's and move onto having a threenager.... And he's only 19 months old. Ugh. (He's so lucky that he's cute and I love him!)

Speaking of crying - someone is awake and demanding to be set free from his bed! Time to run [for the hills]

I won't lie. I loathe the rain. It's wet and gross and cold and just plain old miserable.

Getting outside, rain or shine, is important for kids. And while I will grin and bare it for a while and hop into some puddles, I love finding ways to keep busy indoors and avoiding cabin fever while staying dry and cozy.

Below are my top five favourite activities to do with children 3 and under (check back later for my next instalment for ages 4-6 years old)

1. Sensory Overload!Anything that they can touch and explore works. A bucket with rice and scoops, a bathtub with some shaving cream or a sink with water and cups. Finger painting coloured yogurt on the shower walls during bath can be fun - and give you incentive to wash the bathtub after.Children learn better when they are engaged in sensory activities. Do you notice that sometimes your child will respond better to requests when you touch their shoulder? Or that sometimes you come across smell that reminds you of something from your childhood? Brains learn better when engaged on multiple levels. And let's be honest - it's just plain fun. It can be calming and also help with fine motor skills with the scooping rice or swirling their hand through shaving cream.

2. Dance Party!Dean is starting to get really into dancing. We love cranking the music (to a safe level for his little ears of course!) and rocking out. Sometimes we will dance around the living room to the Wiggles and Raffi but sometimes we listen to the radio for some adult music.Aside from the obvious benefit of exercise, which you'd be surprised how much energy is used when you copy how they dance, it's also great to work on gross motor skills. Before walking, it encourages them to bounce. While walking, it encourages them to move. And when they are stable on their feet, you can add in teaching them to spin and stomp. Dean, at 18 months, is getting ready to jump now. He's getting all the way up to his tippy-toes and dancing to some music is definitely helping! We do Follow-The-Leader and we take turns. I'll show him a move and he copies. Then he shows me something that I have to copy. He finds it awesome to make Mommy climb under the coffee table... We do a lot of "solo" dancing but he's starting to like holding hands and dancing together, which adds another step of complexity to moving because we have to work together.

3. Cleaning!Seriously. It's a huge favourite around here. Dean loves sweeping up with the little dust pan and broom while I use the big one. And we take turns vacuuming. He helps put toys away. He helps wipe the table. And, I'll be honest, I let him stand on the kitchen counter to help put away his dishes sometimes... However, laundry is something I have an issue sharing. Even the way my husband folds his laundry drives me crazy because it doesn't fit properly into the set up if it's not folded my (read : the proper) way.Not only is this great because the house looks a little more put together than the disaster that follows being cooped up inside all day, but it also encourages so many developmental and lifelong skills. Fine motor skills are taught by picking up little toys, gross motor is worked on with the vacuum. He learns responsibility for his toys and because of the way his toys get put away, he learns to sort his stuffed toys from books from toys. He learns balance from standing on the countertops, four feet up off the ground.

4. Baking!I love baking and it's no surprise that Dean does to! He enjoys helping me mix, measure and pour. And he LOVES the end products!Baking is great for math skills - counting to three scoops of flour, adding one egg, eating three cookies (first one was given, second and third were stolen from the cooling racks...) But it's also good for fine motor skills. And it's just a fun way to spend some time together. Around here, it also teaches patience and safety. Dean is very good about sitting in "his cupboard" when the buzzer beeps so that I can open the oven. He understands that it's hot and that he can't touch or come near the oven when it's open. There's times that I have to stay ready to grab him because I can just tell that he is wanting to run over and snatch a cookie from the tray while I open the oven door, but for the most part, he waits and waits and waits.

5. Reading!One of my favourite things to do on cold, rainy days. And it's starting to rub off onto Dean. He loves reading - sometimes I find that he has snuck off to his room and is sitting on his bed looking at books. And there are sometimes that he will come up to me and throw a book at me, then turn tail and run to his big bed and waits for me to follow so I am trapped and have to read him Shiny Trucks fifty. thousand. times. in. a. row. for. the. third. day. straight. But secretly, I don't mind.Reading is great for bonding and for mental development. You don't have to read the words on the page, you can make up a new story to go with the pictures or you can even just talk about the pictures. Dean has quite a few books with 10-12 animals on each page spread and he points to them "Huzzat?" (translation : What's that?) and we go through the names of the animals. Or I will ask him what sounds the animals make (which when asked "What does the fox say?" he proceeds to dance and shimmy) We talk about the colours of animals. We talk about if they live in a nest or an ocean. If they are soft and fuzzy or if they are scaly. Not sure how much he actually absorbs, but there's not many better than having him snuggled up against me while we read and listening to the rain outside. (Except maybe a coffee in my hand while doing so...)

I had a tough time picking only five things, but there are many more things you can do! I like cruising Pinterest with a search of "Toddler indoor activities" and seeing what new ideas we can come up with. There are tons of ways to keep those little arms and legs moving, their brains soaking up information and Mom's sanity from jumping ship.